Best Of: Contributing to Philosophy Class

Hey there! As our writers crawl into their respective rejuvenation containers (read: masturbation chamber in their mom’s basement) over the next couple weeks, we decided to bring you the best articles of Fall 2012! Enjoy!

Philosophy class may be the last place on Earth where students actually have the urge to raise their hands and contribute to discussions on stuff like Aristotle’s badass virtue ethics. In this last haven for student-faculty interaction, one beholds the rare opportunity to look deep into the psyche of a UVa student. For those who have chosen to pursue majors that will actually land them a job after college, you will be surprised at what you would find in these classes.

In your average lecture hall, the professor decides to conduct a conversation about last week’s reading that approximately 1% of the class bothered to look at. While he is delving into critiques of Mill’s brand of utilitarianism, Sorority Sally emerges from her hungover haze, gripped by an insatiable desire to share her words of wisdom with her lecture composed of 150+ of her peers. As she weaves her way through several “I feel likes,” a handful of “I think thats,” and an alarming number of “I guesses,” Sorority Sally has finally concocted a complex web of pseudo-philosophical ramblings that somehow relate last week’s slutty affair with her sister’s boyfriend to the application of hedonism as a moral theory. The professor, so deeply disillusioned and physically sickened by Sally’s response, drags himself out of a stupefied stare and brings himself to reply, “I never thought about it that way. . . good. . . anyone else?”

The rest of the class, mildly amused by Sally’s deeply personal and unconvincingly “hypothetical” scenario, braces itself for Philosophizer Phil’s reply. Phil is the guy whom everyone in the class knows by his characteristic Megamind chin-beard and the obnoxious level of effort he devotes to class. At the instant he begins to speak, the class unleashes out a collective sigh of despair. You see, Phil is the type who stays after class daily to challenge the professor with an “if p then q” statement. Even the professor hates him. After a long-winded whiny response about a bunch of “if ought implies cans” and a long link of outrageous syllogisms, no one knows whether this kid is the voice of god or just a bombastic moron. The second the professor responds with a hesitant “Yeah. . . I don’t know though. . . anyone else?” the class rejoices as one.

Out of nowhere, your professor calls on Lax Bro Brennan taking a snooze in the back, who was, up until then, camouflaged by the volleyball team. Brennan only showed up today to maintain his solid 2.0 GPA, and was busy occupying himself with less than subtle comments making fun of Philosophizer Phil. “Uh what was that bro? Can you repeat the question?” This situation is nothing new to Lax Bro Brennan; he figures when times get tough, he can always whip out ol’ reliable: “Yeah I mean pretty much what everyone else said.” Nice one, Lax Bro Brennan, crisis averted.

Nervous as hell after a long succession of wrong answers, Timid Tina is convinced that she can provide the right response. With the classic half hand raise, then retreat; raise, then retreat; resembling a sad case of impotence, the professor finally notices Timid Tina and calls on her. Tina, caught off guard, bursts out an “I feel like . . . wait I don’t know how to say it . . . wait what’s the word . . . you know like Aristotle was like . . . like you what I mean, right?” Unfortunately for Tina, the professor does not know “what she means, like.” Class dismissed.